


Alone In The World

by commandercrouton



Category: Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: Daenerys can't trust herself to love again, F/M, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Fluff and Smut, Infertility, Jon Snow has insecurity issues, Jonerys, Jonerys Secret Santa, Minor talk of Infertility, One Shot, Pregnancy, Protective pets, Romance, Smut, betrothal, minor smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-26
Updated: 2018-12-26
Packaged: 2019-09-27 17:58:05
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,939
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17166623
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/commandercrouton/pseuds/commandercrouton
Summary: Written for Jonerys Secret Santa 2018, this one shot is mainly told from Daenerys POV as she recalls how her relationship with her husband, Jon Snow, started to where they are now.





	Alone In The World

**Author's Note:**

  * For [antistia22](https://archiveofourown.org/users/antistia22/gifts).



> This was written for @antistia22 on tumblr for the Jonerys Secret Santa 2018. I haven't written anything in a year, so please don't roast me guys. This is a gift above all else, so I hope you enjoy it!

White flecks of snow fell quietly on the grounds of Winterfell as Daenerys looked out their bedroom window. Unconsciously, her thoughts drifted back to a couple of years ago when she married her husband under the Godswood trees.

 

\---

 

Marriages were made to benefit the family, not for love. She knew when she sat upon the Iron Throne she would have to marry someone from a lower house. A small part of her feared he would resent her for the prophecy she heard so long ago on that day in the desert. Would her husband find another woman to warm his bed when he learned that she could never give him children? Would she resent the bastard children that had her husband’s features mixed with his lover’s?

 

She was born of fire and blood, she was a dragon. Whomever was deemed worthy enough to marry the true heir to the iron throne, the mother of dragons, he should consider himself lucky. That’s what she repeated to herself whenever Tyrion brought marriage into their council meetings. Her features were schooled into a mask of indifference, never letting her close council know how terrified she was of it. Both of her arranged marriages ended in death, and she loathed to think what the next one would hold.

 

Never in a million years did she think the one who was deemed worthy enough would be the handsome man named Jon Snow, now known privately as Aegon Targaryen, her brother’s last child. When Lord Bran Stark revealed his true parentage in their meeting, silence surrounded them. She briefly wondered what this meant for her? He was the rightful heir. What was left for her?

 

Daenerys quickly brushed those horrid thoughts from her mind. Her brother’s son was alive. She was not the last Targaryen. He could carry on their name. That was more than she could ever do for them. Their eyes met across the room, brown meeting violet, both masking their true feelings about the matter. There were more pressing matters to attend than to squabble over who would rule. The white walkers were still a threat. Surviving the long winter was of the utmost importance.

 

Then the war was over, and rebuilding efforts took precedence. She made a vow she would not be queen of the ashes, and she would not break it. It wasn’t until Arya asked her one night if she was to marry her brother that made her realize he would even be a possibility.

 

Daenerys froze for a minute before turning to look at the woman before her. “What makes you think that?”

 

“Jon is a Targaryen, is he not? Your family married within each other all the time. How is this different?” she explained as if to a child.

 

Daenerys was always surprised how smart this little assassin was. She faintly recalled Jon telling her how his little sister was a scholar as well as a fighter. “That’s true. I would have married Viserys if he didn’t barter me for an army. If Rhaegar’s first born son survived, I would have married him instead. I suppose that is an option.”

 

“What about love?”

 

“What about it?”

 

“Don’t you want to marry for love?”

 

“I am no fool Arya. A queen must marry who is best for the kingdom, despite how she feels.”

 

“But you aren’t the queen, you are _Lady_ Targaryen. Jon is King and the rightful heir to the throne. It is his choice now,” Arya reasoned.

 

Daenerys leveled a stare at Arya. She was clever. Jon was lucky to have her in his corner.

 

“That has yet to be discussed. We have been focusing on rebuilding. If Jon wishes to take the throne, I will not stop him,” she spoke honestly.

 

“What would you do if he did?”

 

“Besides ensuring he can rule before I take my leave? I would take my dragons to Essos, build a house with a red door, and plant a lemon tree in my yard. That is all I ever wanted, but that is not what the future held for me at the time.”

 

Arya smirked and just excused herself from her presence. It wasn’t until later that night did she realize Arya was testing her. She wanted to see if Daenerys was going to take out her threat to the throne. She could not blame her for it. Arya’s family was slaughtered for the sake of the seat in King’s Landing.

 

A week later Arya sat in their council meeting and suggested the marriage between her brother and Daenerys. To her surprise everyone thought it would be best. A Stark and a Targaryen started the war, and a Stark and Taragaryen would end it and start a new peace for their home.

 

She remembered staring at Jon trying to gauge his reaction, but his face betrayed nothing. It startled her how much she missed him looking like she was the sun after only one night together. A shiver passed through her as she realized she would have it again.

 

They married under a full moon in the Godswood trees. His direwolf walked with her to meet her husband down the aisle, while her dragons growled keenly in a field, knowing something was happening to their mother. Her dragons loved her as much as she loved them. There was no other person that could compete with her. It shocked her when Jon was able to touch Drogon. If she was being honest, that was the moment she realized she could trust him completely.

 

The ceremony passed by in a blur. She recalled his leathered covered hands grasping for her nimble fingers as they made their way to the halls of Winterfell. There would be a proper coronation in Dragonstone, in the lands of their ancestors, next month. Missandei worked closely with Tyrion to ensure when they were crowned, they would be crowned as equals. Daenerys earned her right to rule despite what she lacked between her legs.

 

Jon softly caressed her fingers as they sat next to each other in the dining hall, watching their family and close friends feast in a celebration. This was what they needed. A time to celebrate, and remember the happy times, before they lost so many in the long winter. Her blood pulsed loudly in her ears, and she briefly wondered if Jon could feel how strong her heartbeat was. When he pressed his lips to hers at the bonding ceremony, it was a soft chaste kiss. Nothing like the night of passion they shared on a boat that rocked on the waves.

 

All too soon, he led her to their bedroom. Her head was raised high despite the hoots and hollers from the northern brethren. The khalasar glared at the soldiers disrespecting their Khaleesi, but she told them no blood was to be shed that night.

 

The door shut softly behind her, and her mind slowly went back to her first wedding night when Khal Drogo took her. She knew Jon would never be that way with her, but a small part of her was still a little girl wanting to go home.

 

“I will not touch you if you do not wish it,” he gruffly whispered, breaking the silence. These were the first words he spoke to her since their wrists were bound to one another.

 

“I know what I must do,” she defiantly responded. The control was still in her hands. The realization almost caused her to breathe a sigh of relief.

 

“Aye, and when we lay together it will not be because of what we _must_ do, it will be because we _want_ to,” he gently led her to the bed, and began to loosen the braids that was a mixture of the northern and dothraki style. The feeling of his fingers in her hair caused her to shiver. A memory of how he grasped at her like she was the last thing he would ever feel sprang to her mind. This touch was different. It was soft and loving. It spoke of the many nights they would have together. Their life was now each others, and she desperately hoped this marriage wouldn’t end up like her others. Oh, how she wanted this one to last.

 

“Jon,” she whispered quietly as she raised her hands to his and gently moved his hands from her hair, “we never talked about this. Are you alright with this marriage? Targaryens married one another for centuries, but you did not grow up a Targaryen. You grew up a northern lad, hating my father for his sins. I do not know whom you expected to marry before you joined the Night’s Watch but...You are not my first husband, but I am your first wife. I want this marriage to be good. For both of us.”

 

She heard him gasp quietly, but she refused to turn around. If she faced him, she would worry he would see just how scared she was. Terrified of losing him. Terrified of rejection. Terrified to think he could want this, _love_ her. Because she loved him. She never admitted it to herself when the war was upon her. Love was something she could never have when she had to break the spokes on the wheel. Love had the power to destroy her. Hadn’t it proved that to her when she lost her poor Viserion to save him?

“Dany, I,” he started before he cut himself off. He took a deep breath and tried again. “Lady Catelyn Stark was never intended to marry my fath- Lord Stark,” he amended, “she was betrothed to his older brother, Brandon. Did you know that?”

 

She shook her head. Even if she did, she could not recall. The only thing Viserys taught her was their family history.

 

He began to loosen her braids again as he continued his story, “When Brandon died at the hands of your father, my grandfather,” he added as he felt her stiffen beneath him, ”their betrothal was altered to where she would marry Lord Stark. They did not love each other at first. War was on the horizon. They did what they must however, and soon she bore him a son. As the years passed, they grew to love each other. Despite how she felt towards me, I knew she loved him as much as he loved her. They had a great marriage. I’m sure it would have been happier if he would have been honest about me, but that didn’t change how they grew to love another as the years continued.

 

“What I mean to say is, even if one of us did not want this marriage, that would not stop me from making this a good marriage. I never planned to marry. I grew up a bastard. I was too scared to lay with a woman and risk her bringing another bastard into this cruel world. Marriage never seemed to be made for me. That does not change that I am not your first husband, but I do intend to be your last,” he finished loosening her hair and placed a kiss upon her head.

 

She closed her eyes and breathed in his scent. “I’m sorry,” her words broke the silence between them. She was sorry for forcing him into this marriage. Sorry for the sins of her father that ruined his mother’s family. Sorry for ruining his chance to marry for love.

 

Jon smiled sadly as he looked at his queen sitting on their bed. He knew someone as brilliant as her wouldn’t want him. He may not be a bastard anymore, but that didn’t change his view of himself in the slightest. She deserved someone worthy enough to be her king. Not someone whose brothers slayed in cold blood.

 

“I’ll sleep in my own quarters tonight.”

 

It was only when Daenerys heard the door close did she allow her tears to fall.

 

_‘A Targaryen alone in the world is a terrible thing,’_ she thought as she watched the snow fall outside her window.

 

A week passed before she gathered the courage to invite him back to her quarters. Missandei informed her the servants noticed Jon has not yet stayed in the same room as hers. That must not go on. To say Jon was shocked to be invited to their room so soon was an understatement, but he would do whatever his queen asked of him.

 

They both stared at the ceiling as they laid next to one another the first night in their bed. Slowly her hand traveled across the blanket, and tentatively grasped his hand in hers. Jon thought it must have been a mistake, but when he glanced at her, he noticed her normally pale features looked pinker in the moonlight. He smiled to himself as he squeezed her hand in comfort before they fell asleep holding onto one another.

 

A month passed after their coronation before Jon decided he needed to get to know her more. He scheduled a private dinner in their quarters on Dragonstone. To both of their surprise, it went extremely well. He got to see a glimpse of the woman she was before she decided to take the throne. She saw glimpses of the cocky boy who used to battle his brother for bragging rights. When a lull in their conversation happened, Daenerys knew she had to ask the one question that was burning in her head.

 

“Did you love another? Did you wish to marry another?” she finally asked.

 

A few moments passed in silence before he answered her. “There was a wildling once whom I loved. She died in battle. Her hair was as red as fire,” he answered truthfully, “but I knew we could never marry. I had taken the black, and the wilding’s were our enemies. It wouldn’t have worked.”

 

“I see,” she whispered, clutching her goblet to her lips as if it could save her from the cracks in her heart that was beginning to form.

 

Jon cleared his throat. “And you? Did you ever love someone?”

 

“I was but a child when Khal Drogo made me his Khaleesi,” she started, “at first I did my best just to survive. In the end, I did love him though, I suppose. I loved him enough to put him out of his misery in the end.”

 

They both looked anywhere else besides each other as they felt the ghosts of their past creep upon them. If they did risk the chance of looking at each others faces, they would have seen the love and heartbreak in their eyes.

 

“Will you take a lover?”

 

Jon choked and stared in bewilderment at Daenerys.

 

“I can’t have children. I am not a fool. I know a man has needs. I am sorry you were stuck with a barren queen. If only my body was as fruitful as our lands.”

 

“I told you before that woman was lying,” he forced out through his teeth.

 

It took a moment for Daenerys to realize he was angry. Angry at her for what she suggested. “My King, is everything okay?”

 

“I told you on our wedding night I will be the best husband to you. A husband does not take a lover when he has a beautiful and kind wife to warm his bed. Children do not make a marriage, my Queen.”

 

Jon hated to admit how much he loved calling her that. His eyes darkened at the thought of calling his nickname for her in bed as he worshipped her like the queen she was. He clutched his goblet tightly as he stared in the fire. Where did the confidence go from the man who knocked upon her chambers so long ago? Was it so easy to think with his prick than with his heart?

 

“I am saddened to think I am the reason our line will end. I understand if you want our line to continue, even if it is with another woman,” she lied. The minute the sentence was uttered she wanted to take them back. Daenerys loathed to think of another woman touching her Jon. Her King.

 

Perhaps Rhaegal would sniff out the woman and let her...no, that is not what a queen would do.

 

“A Targaryen alone in the world is a terrible thing,” she continued, eyes fixed somewhere in the past.

 

Jon looked at her once again, this time with sadness in his eyes. “Our old maester said that. Aemon Targaryen. He was the first one to tell me of your existence.”

 

Daenerys’ eyes widened at the statement. “Is he…?”

 

“He died,” he answered.

 

She bit her lip and looked away. Jon saw her hand and grasped it in his. She looked at him, surprise etched on her face. They only held hands as they fell asleep. They never spoke of how they woke tangled up in one another.

 

“You are not alone. I will stay by your side until we draw our last breath. And as we pass, our dragons will be the last Targaryens to roam the skies. They will live long after we are gone, and they will spread the word of our line. How their last riders died long ago and none after could tame them. That will be our legacy my Queen.”

 

Her eyes shone with unshed tears at his words. She slowly stood, never letting go of his hand and walked in front of him. She leaned over slowly, glancing at his lips, her intentions clear giving Jon an ample chance to turn away, before softly placing her lips on his.

 

He cupped her face with his other hand and kissed her back greedily. How long did he dream of her lips on his again? She let out a sigh as she felt him respond to her. He nipped at her lip, growling in anticipation. They knew this dance, despite how long it was since the music played.

 

They dragged each other to their bed as their clothes were hastily thrown off. Her moans filled the room and his breath grew more ragged. She could feel his length pressed hard against her belly and she could feel herself tense in anticipation.

 

This was different than the last time. This wasn’t built on passion with death around the corner. This was built on promises of love and a future together.

 

Jon’s hands roamed over her body and bucked his hips into her as he felt her nipples harden under his callous hands.

 

“Jon, please, I need you,” she begged into his mouth.

 

He tore his mouth away from hers as he trailed kisses along her neck heading south. She held her breath in anticipation as she felt him breathe on her sex. An achingly long moment passed before he pressed his mouth against her clit, sucking and twirling his tongue against her sensitive bud. Daenerys fought the urge to squirm as he lavished her. She could feel herself grow more wet, and she knew she could come undone just from this.

 

“I never thought I would get this,” his voice low as he tore himself away from her. She whimpered at the loss of contact. “I never thought you would want me,” he continued as he trailed kisses along the inside of her thighs, everywhere except where she wanted him to be. “My beautiful strong Queen,” he nipped at her hip bone.

 

The sudden sting of the pain broke through her haze. She couldn't wait a moment later. Her small strong hands grasped his head and lead him up to her. A part of her was pleased to see his mouth was wet from her.

 

_‘Mine,’_ she savagely thought before pressing his lips against hers again, moaning when she tasted herself on his lips. Her hands slowly trailed lower until she grasped him and led him gently to her.

 

“Are you sure?” he whispered.

 

“More than anything my King,” she answered.

 

He bit his lip before he slipped himself between her hot and wet folds. She let out a cry of satisfaction before she began to buck her hips against his, eager for friction.

 

His hands laced with hers as they began to move as one. THis was the start of something more for them.

 

They unraveled together, whispering sweet words of love along each other’s skin. Promises of being together and loving one another until their time ended.

 

\---

 

“Dany? Missandei said you wanted to see me?”

 

Daenerys broke out of her past memories and stared at her King. Her husband. She blinked rapidly at him and smiled.

 

“Is everything alright?” he asked as he strode in, placing a soft kiss against her temple.

 

“Everything is fine my love,” she smiled at him. “You know it snowed just like this on our wedding day.”

 

“Did it?”

 

“You don’t remember,” she chastised fondly.

 

“I was more focused on marrying the beautiful woman who had dragons at her disposal than to notice the weather,” he gruffly answered.

 

Her laughter filled the air and Jon knew he said the right thing. He didn’t know how a woman like her could love for a guy like him. She was everything to him.

 

She walked towards him, wrapping her arms around his neck as she trailed soft kisses along his jawline. She nipped at the joint between his neck and jaw and she felt his hands tighten on her waist.

 

“I’m with child,” she whispered in his ear.

 

His heart stopped.

 

“Jon?” she asked worriedly as she felt his hands go lax at her waist.

 

“What did you say?” he breathed out.

 

“I’m with child,” she repeated. “I missed my last two moon cycles, and the maester confirmed it today. It wasn’t bad meat I ate my love. It was the pregnancy sickness.”

 

“Truly? You are truly with child?”

 

“Yes,” she beamed.

 

He laughed and wrapped his arms around her as he lifted her against him before spinning in a circle.

 

“We are going to have a child,” he reverently whispered, setting her gently before he kissed her cheek.

 

She felt tears prick at her eyes as she watched her husband place a loving hand on her abdomen.

 

He froze before he stepped back.

 

“What’s wrong?”

 

“Rhaegal is going to be insufferable now. Especially if Drogon acts even crazier than he already is. You know Rhaegal follows in his steps. Can dragons sense this? What about Ghost? He is already protective of you. You do realize you are the most powerful woman in the world? You have dragons and a direwolf at your disposal,” he explained before pacing back and forth in their room.

 

She laughed yet again, before gently pulling his hand to her, stopping him mid stride.

 

“I was already the most powerful woman in the world. I had them, and you, at my disposal for quite some time now.”

 

He glowered at her in response. Her smile grew before she led his hand back to her abdomen.

 

“I think what you mean to say is our child will be the most powerful person in the world. They will have so many who will love and protect them. Not just the dragons and the wolf, but you, me, your siblings, Missandei, the khalasar, the unsullied,” she began to list off more of their family before he cut her off with a kiss against her lips.

 

It was her favorite way for him to silence her.

 

“Our prince or princess will be quite fearsome,” he agreed smiling before pulling his wife into his arms.

 

Yes, a Targaryen alone in the world is a terrible thing.

 

But they would never be alone again.

 

 

End.


End file.
